Deep in the Meadow: A story of Rue's sister
by CrazedMockingjay
Summary: What if Katniss succeeded her mission: getting Peeta out of the arena alive, even if it cost her own life? After watching her sister die when she was eight years old, then getting picked for the 83rd Hunger Games, I think Rue's sister has a story to tell.
1. Part 1: Remembering Rue, Chapter 1

I'll never be able to forget my sister, Rue. I dream about her every night. I stroke the rough, tightly woven fabric of my quilt, keeping my hands busy so I don't relive the memory of the nightmare. It has always been the same since the 74th Hunger Games. Since the day my sister died. I watch her getting speared every night. Her name getting called at the reaping. The arrow entering the District 1 boy's neck. Katniss, singing Rue's lullaby and burying her in a flowery coffin. Me glaring at Katniss on her Victory Tour, for not honoring Rue. The old man in the faded red overalls, falling to the ground with a bullet in his head. Jumbled flashes of the 74th and 75th Hunger Games and my life thereafter. This is what crosses my consciousness when it turns dark.

But last night it was different. More bloody, more action, more sorrow. Because today is reaping day. The day we are chosen to die.

I stretch out my fingers, hoping that today will never begin. But being the eldest in my family for eight years, I know that my younger siblings will get scared when they wake up if I'm not there to comfort them. Assure them that even though we lost Rue to the Games, no one else in our family will get hurt, even though I know in my heart that is a lie.

I hear a quiet, yet frantic knock that can only belong to my beloved younger sister, Rosemary. She sleeps with my parents because she is the youngest and there is not enough room in our little shack for another bed. I watch her silent shadow slip into the room that I share with my other two sisters, Lavender and Willow, and my brother, Olive.

Rosemary plonks herself on my bed, upsetting the springs and making them creak in protest. "I can't sleep," she says simply, shaking my shoulders.

I pretend to groggily sit up, as if I've been sleeping for hours, when the truth is I woke up the moment dawn started to break through the thin moth-eaten curtain that covered the window above my head.

"What's wrong?" I ask, even though I already know the answer

"The reaping. You have at _least_ thirty entries. Lavender and Willow have maybe fifteen! And Olive, he has five! Anyone could get picked! I might- I might-" Rosemary says before she bursts out, "I might lose one of you, AGAIN!", and starts sobbing hysterically that Lavender and Willow immediately sit up and look around in confusion. Olive is still snoring softly in the corner, oblivious to the commotion around him.

"Sh, sh. It's all right. District 11 is the largest district. Theres a small chance one of us could get picked. Okay? Nothing to worry about. It's all right. It's all right," I explain

softly.

Lavender is making these weird yet soothing sounds, which is probably meant to comfort Rosemary, while Willow is patting her hair.

She sniffled "Just-Just be careful, okay?"

"I will," I tell her. Rosemary doesn't have to worry about herself because she's only ten. She's got two more years until her name can be entered in the reaping.

Rosemary forces a smile and wraps her arms around my neck.

"Should we wake up Olive? It's almost time to get ready" Willow says, looking at Olive with a disapproving look. I look at Olive's peaceful face and immediately know not to wake him. To disturb him from his blissful dream to stark reality.

I say, "No. It is reaping day, after all. Let him sleep in while he can."

I slide my lucky charm over my head as I prepare for the day. The necklace is woven from a rare type of grass, called Hope Grass. Legend has it that Hope Grass is a blessed grass that was formed after the apocalypse, symbolizing hope that it was named after. Hanging on the grass is a star carved out of wood. I remember the day I made it. It was years ago, when I was only eight. I was the orchids during the harvest, picking the fruit from the slimmest of branches with Rue.

The sun was harsh, burning on my back, but the cool breeze rustling through the leaves was the perfect antidote to the heat. When I saw the clump of Hope Grass, swishing in the breeze by the trunk of the tree I was climbing, I was shocked. Hope grass is scarce, so you had to be very lucky to find one in a place as everyday as the orchids.

I gathered two handfuls of the grass and stuffed it in my jacket pocket. When I got back home, I laid out the grass in the drawer that is where I keep my belongings. Then took my knife, and cut out a good apple-sized portion of a thick branch of an old pine tree that grows behind my house. Each day after that I would carve the wood, and weave the grass strands.

The morning before the reaping, the morning before Rue had her name drawn, I finished it. There was two Hope grass necklaces, each one adorned with a roughly carved flower. Or a star. I still hadn't made my mind up.

I'd given one to Rue, and the other I'd kept. As I gave it to her, I said, "I'm not sure whether its a star or a flower..."

She'd poked my nose and said, "_I'll _have the flower, and you can have the star," as I giggled.

I gasped, my breath coming in loud rasp. I had forbidden myself to think of Rue after the Quarter Quell, because it was just too painful for me to bear. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I had to put my calm head on for today. I straightened my brown skirt and a white short sleeved blouse, and dragged a brush through my knotted brown hair, getting ready for the reaping.

I smiled, watching Olive chasing a laughing Lavender around the outside of our small little shack. "Give...me...back...my boots!" Olive spluttered. He was only twelve, so he couldn't catch up with fourteen year old Lavender.

"No!" Lavender giggled, raising the boots high in the air, while Willow danced teasingly around Olive.

"Lavender. Willow. Give your brother back his boots," my mother said.

I turned around, and saw my mother looking sternly at the twins, Willow and Lavender, with her hands on her hips. But it didn't look so serious because we all could tell the she was holding back laughter.

Me, Olive, Lavender and Willow collapsed on the floor, laughing hysterically. Even my father managed a smile.

Olive snatched his boots from Lavender, and stuck out his tongue at us. He managed to get halfway to his room before he started chuckling again, causing a fresh wave of laughter.

We're funny that way. Any small amusing thing that happens, we burst out laughing. I guess its our way of forgetting the past.

Rosemary has finished dressing up in our parents room, and I'm slowly savoring the taste of the sliced bread I am having for breakfast. We each have one slice of bread each, topped with a small serving of cheese. Its hardly enough, but we don't complain, because we know its all we can afford. Olive and Rosemary tries to lighten up the mood by trying to start a conversation, but the rest of the family knew Rue more, so we just sit there, in silence, remembering Rue. It is our unspoken routine.

While the twins are cleaning up the table, I button up the back of Rosemary's yellow dress. She is putting on a brave face, as if she were smiling for a camera. I know her too well, because I know she is just a scared little girl that is great at acting. I spin her around and look her right in her wide golden-brown eyes.

"Rosemary. Whatever happens, you will not cry. Promise me that you will be strong. Promise me." I say to her strongly.

She widens her eyes, surprised by the suddenness of the speech.

Then she whispers, "I will. I promise. Only if you promise too."

I look at her for a long time, then I slowly nod my head. "I promise."

She smiles and she skips off, a bit too enthusiastically, and I watch as she wraps her arms around my mother. I quietly slip out of the living room, into the room that I share with my brother and the twins. I grab a thick book off the quilt of my bed and sit on the floor of my room, reading. It's a book about fighting techniques, plants, everything. I idly flip through the pages, the rough papyrus brushing my fingers as I skim the book. Everyday, I sit and read the same volume, again and again. Partly because its the only book we have in the house. Another reason why is because it's packed full of information, about how to survive. I read it because if I ever got picked, I would be prepared.

I hear a small _click_, and turn my head in the direction of the door. It's Olive. He walks over and sits down on the floor by me. "What're you doing?" He asks.

"Reading." I reply.

He shakes his head. "No, I mean, how could you be reading, _now_? Reaping day." He shudders. "I could never concentrate on a book today"

I shrug. "How could I _not _be reading this? It's important."

He opens his mouth, probably to argue some more, but he obviously thinks better of it and stands up.

"What time is it?" He asks.

I point to the clock at the other side of the room.

"Um..." He squints at the clock. His cheeks turn pinkish with embarrassment.

"I can't...exactly...see it..." He mumbles, looking at his toes.

"Oh! Right! Sorry, Olive. It's 12:16. We'll be leaving soon, okay?" I say.

"Okay..." He nods and exits the room. I stare after him. That boy really needs glasses. But we just can't afford it.

The rough surface of District 11 streets hurt the soles of my worn boots. I walking towards the expanse of land lined with gray, sharp gravel. The place holds twelve roped off areas, each surrounded by a cluster worried people crying and uttering sad goodbyes. The heat of the sun is scorching, and the humidity and the helplessness of the area feels like it's pressing me from all sides. I am holding Rosemary's hand, my lucky charm swinging at my neck, staring up at the Capitol Monitor, a gigantic television screen that sports the Capitol's latest news. District 11 is too large a district to fill everyone into the plaza where the Justice building is. So the Mayor decided to put up five oversized televisions screens around the district, showing the important news of the day. Its pretty simple. If you were at the main square last year, you would go to Capitol Monitor 1, this year. I was in Capitol Monitor 4 to watch the reaping this time. My heart pumps furiously as look down and slowly slip my hand out of Rosemary's.

"I got to go to the sixteen-year-olds area." I tell her.

"I know." She says simply.

I lean down, kiss her sweaty forehead, and say, "I'll be back after the reaping. We'll go and pick some flowers for Mother. Pink ones. I know you love pink."

Rosemary gives me a small smile, and slips away into the cluster of people who's names have not been entered, either because they are too young or older than eighteen. I go to the roped off area number 4 that holds the sixteen year old girls near this area. A peacekeeper shoves me roughly and secures the rope behind me, announcing "That's the last sixteen girl."

I give the peacekeeper a scowl then concentrate on looking for Olive. It's his first year in the reaping, so I know he's scared. I block out the red-hot sun with my hand, and my eyes find him, squashed between two burly twelve year old boys that look much too big for their age. His small face is drenched with sweat, and I see he's barely holding back tears as he pushes away the dark hair from his golden-brown eyes.

I remember what I told him before we left the house. I told him, clear and simple, that he must not cry if he gets picked. Keep on a calm face. I told him I loved him. Not much words were needed, because he's a smart boy and knows the message behind them.

As if Olive were thinking the same as I was, he juts out his chin defensively, blinks back the coming tears, and wipes his face of emotions as he waits.

I tear my eyes away from Olive, looking for another familiar face. I spot my mother and father with Rosemary, holding hands, and crying. Except for Rosemary. While my parents are standing there, sorrow plastered on their faces and tears streaming down their cheeks, Rosemary hasn't shed a tear. She is being strong. She is being strong for me.

The twins, Lavender and Willow, are crying softly in each others arms. Their bonds are stronger than twins, they are one part of a whole. I didn't need to comfort them, because I know they aren't crying for themselves. They are crying for Rue. There is no way I can persuade them that Rue is okay. Because she isn't. Not until the Capitol comes down, anyway.

I look up, startled, as I realize that the Mayor has started reading out the annual story. Its all nonsense about how the Capitol was our savior and rescued us from destroying ourselves and all that. All I'm truly worried about is the reaping. Because the moment your name is pulled out of the reaping ball, you know you have a one out of twenty-four percent chance that you'll come out of that arena alive.

The Mayor has finished reading, and is introducing the mentors, Isilee Malianna and Erudanus Danour, and the plump and curvy escort with her frilly dresses and adorned hair, Lovage Daisidy. Isilee is a pretty and thoughtful-looking lady in her twenties, with sharp chocolate brown eyes and curly dark hair that falls down to the middle of her back. Erudanus, the monstrous boy with the black eyes like dark pits, is leaning casually on his chair, his eyes glinting murderously, looking all superior with that cocky smile on his face. He couldn't be more than nineteen.

"Well, get on with it." Erudanus says in his deep, rough voice, smirking.

I decided I hated him.

"Okay! Happy Hunger Games, everyone! May the odds be-" started Lovage.

"Yeah, yeah. May the odds be _ever_ in your favor. Just to let you know, whoever I'm gonna mentor has the odds _entirely _in their favor. So start with the boy tribute first." Erudanus interrupted, gesturing towards the giant glass ball that held all the names of all the boys aged 12-18 in District 11.

Isilee shot him a look, saying, _stop being so arrogant. _Erudanus just smirked at her, like he couldn't care less because he thinks that Isilee is beneath him.

"Okay. Okay. So. Yes. Boy's first then..." Lovage spluttered, her cheeks a bright pink with embarrassment. She hitched her skirt up and walked toward the reaping ball on those ridiculous high heeled shoes. She then waved her hand over the ball dramatically, and plunged her hand in. She pulled out a slip of parchment as I prayed that it wasn't Olive. Please don't be Olive. Please, please. Please. He's only twelve.

Lovage cleared her voice for effect then pompously read out, "Ryde Arvolor"

I let out a sigh of relief, as did most of the audience in 11. It wasn't Olive. I could see him in the crowd, relief obviously the prime emotion on his face. He was looking around, trying to find me, I guess, but he was not tall enough to see over the heads of his towering companions.

I turned my head back to the screen, where a boy about seventeen years old was starring. I almost gasped. He is as tall as Erudanus, and about as muscular. White scars crossed his arms and his face was obscured by a fresh cut that started from his left ear across his face to the right corner of his mouth. His split lips where tilted into an aloof yet conceited smirk, as if even he wasn't picked he would've volunteered anyway. He had the sort of look that made you sure he would kill you in a second if he felt like it. He looked like he had just been into battle, and won. I'd bet any money that he was a career.

Erudanus passed his eyes over Ryde, evaluating him, then looking smug, said, "Well, then. I don't think I could've gotten a better tribute. Better start thinking what you're gonna do with all that money when you win."

Ryde laughed.

I decided I hated that Ryde Arvolor, too.

"Okay. Time for the girls." Lovage announced before clasping her hands together.

Oh, no. Please don't be Lavender. Please don't be Willow. Lavender, Willow. Lavender, Willow. She dipped her hand in. Lavender, Willow. Pulled out a piece of parchment. Lavender, Willow. And read out a name. "Laurel Arendell".

I slowly breathed out, thankful that it wasn't Lavender, or Willow. I don't what I would've done if it was. I search out their faces, but find that their faces aren't full of joy. They are shocked, the eyes lined with pain and sorrow. I wonder why.

"Laurel Arendell, please come out!" Lovage says again, louder.

What is Laurel Arendell waiting for? Her picture will show on the screen and the peacekeepers will come and get her if she doesn't move, quick. It's a bit weird that Laurel Arendell's name sounds familiar. As if...as if...it was my name in a funny Capitol accent. My eyes find Rosemary. She is staring back. I understand. Lovage is calling out my name.


	2. Part 1: Remembering Rue, Chapter 2

I slowly make my way through the crowd of sixteen year olds, avoiding peoples gaze as I push past the peacekeepers. Its as if I move on auto, I let my body do all the walking and I do not think. I don't know where I'm going. I don't have time to figure out, though, because peacekeepers grab me, push me roughly into the back of a dark-windowed car and slam the door. I watch helplessly as the faces of my family pass by me as the car drives toward my death.

I slump on my seat, thinking what I'd done to life to make it end so quickly. No, I tell myself. Don't think of that. You promised Rosemary you would be strong. So you're going to be strong. For her, and for the rest of my family. I straighten up, and think.

Isilee Malianna, my soon-to-be mentor, seems a nice enough person. Intelligent, not so full of herself like Erudanus Danour is. She is the one that will help me, mentor me and give me guidance. I tug on my token, the star necklace, thinking of how I would survive the games.

What are my strengths? I don't know. But I know I am pretty good with plants, and have good aim. I climb trees. Me and Rue used to fly through the trees like birds, hopping from one tree to another. Rue. Rue. Oh, how much I miss her. Her laugh, her sweet voice...I wonder how she would feel, if she knew that I was headed towards the games. Towards my death. Now I know that I have to win. No matter what. For Rue. For Rosemary. For Olive, Willow and Lavender. For my parents. For District 11.

The car jolts to a stop and I am hurled backwards in my seat. You would've thought that tributes would be treated with more respect, but not in District 11. I rub the back of my head resentfully. A peacekeeper thrusts open the door and I step back out into the hot, sultry air. People all around gape at me, mouths wide open as I slowly walk to the stage, my boots crunching on the hard, pebbly ground. Some gasp, as if they recognized my sister in me. I know that the resemblance is striking, because my mother always used say when I was seven that I looked like Rue when she was seven.

As I climb the stairs, its so silent that I swear I could hear a pin drop. The humid air feels like a cage and its just so hot that I'm panting.

I stride to the center of the stage and take my place next to Ryde.

Lovage brakes the silence, by saying enthusiastically, "Well, then. A round of applause for this year's tributes for District 11, Ryde Arvolor and Laurel Arendell!"

A few people applaud eagerly, but most, I notice, just do quiet, unsure little claps, peering at me as if they know me from somewhere.

Lovage smiles pleasantly, as if she imagines they are clapping for her, and chirps, without an ounce of pity, "Ryde and Laurel, you will be escorted to the Justice Building where you can say your goodbyes... go on, now."

Capitol people are just so self-centered.

The plush sofa of one of the rooms in the Justice Building looks warm and comforting. But I refuse to sit in it. For my last hour in District 11, I want to spend it as a normal person of District 11. No riches, no comfortable sofas and fancy little drinks to sip while watching the television. None of that.

I quietly sit cross-legged on the polished wooden floor and stare at the pretty pictures of apple trees and purple flowers adorning the beige walls in disgust while I wait for my first visitors. What else to the people of the Capitol do besides decorating and killing things? Don't they even _work_? At _all_? The districts do all the work, and the Capitol just wastes it all. Can't they give a _tiny _bit of their seemingly endless supply of money to the people who actually need it?

I'm so furious at this Capitol that I don't even notice Rosemary slip in through the door before she kneels in front of me.

Even then, all I do is just stare at Rosemary, and all Rosemary does is stare at me. I look into her golden-brown eyes and surprisingly find determination mirrored in her eyes. She is going to fight, too, in her own way. By staying alive.

"Laurie..." Rosemary says quietly.

I blink, surprised. She has never called me Laurie since she was very little.

"You can win this. I know you can. You are like the girl from District 12, Katniss. You are good with plants. You can climb trees like a squirrel. You have good aim." Rosemary whispers, her voice shaking slightly.

"Yes," I tell her, because I don't know what else to say. I kiss her forehead and say, "I love you. You know that. I will come back for you, and for everyone else, too. I will. No matter what it costs me, I'll be back for my family." I say seriously.

"I know..." Rosemary trails off, and looks up at me.

"Where is mother, father, Willow, Lavender and Olive?" I ask, looking around as if they are hiding behind the curtains or something.

"They...had some trouble...calming Olive down..." Rosemary says hesitantly.

"What! Is he okay? None of this is his fault, and I will come back, I will, he doesn't have to be worried, he won't go hungry, and-" I rant before Rosemary interrupts me saying, "He will be fine. They are on their way here now. Father said that-"

Then the door swings open, to the faces of Lavender, Olive and Willow. They burst into the room, falling into my open arms, and we all topple over in one big heap.

"Laurel!" The twins cried together.

"Laurel!" Olive says, his voice muffled by a pillow that he managed to fall face-first on.

I gently push everyone off me.

"Where's mother and father?" I ask.

"Here." My mother's voice says. I start and turn around. I had forgotten that everyone in the Arendell family, including my parents, have the gift of silent footsteps, therefore making everyone an expert at sneaking around.

My parents come silently to the middle of the room where me and my siblings are now standing.

"Okay. Everyone, I love you. And since I love you, I have to come home. I'll fight with all my strength to come to all of you. Because I love you."

"Lavender, Willow, take care of Rosemary and Olive. They need you. You will have to work a few extra hours since I won't be there, but my friends will help you out. They will come to you, and take some of the burden until I come back."

They look up at me, eyes sparkling with tears.

"Olive. Stay strong. You can sell those little wooden cars that you make at the marketplace. You are smart. Use that knowledge at school, and you might be able to make more inventions."

He clenches his hands into fists and looks down at the floor.

"Rosemary...follow the advice I gave you earlier. Pity gets you nowhere, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So strive."

She gives me a small, determined, smile.

"Mother, Father. I love you, and I appreciate all you did for me, back then. Don't let go on reality if I...don't make it."

My parents nod, because ever since Rue died they haven't been people of many words. In fact, they rarely talk at all. Don't get me wrong, they cared for us when Rue died, did everything like they used to, but I know that there is a small, broken part in them that can never be healed.

I stretch my arms out, indicating a family hug, and without hesitation Rosemary, Lavender and Willow, and my parents hug me back. I think about how much I love my family, and there is _no way _I can not return home to them, before I realize that Olive is hanging back, his fists clenched tightly at his sides and an expression of frustration on his face.

I pull back, and walk over to Olive.

"Whats wrong?" I ask, confused.

He looks up and bursts out angrily, "Its just not fair! Why, out of all the families, does it have be ours? You and Rue. Gone. Never to come back, ever. Why are we so unlucky? What has our family done? Are we going to lose everyone, one, by one, by one?"

"I just HATE them. I HATE THEM" He screams, fuming.

I look at Olive with shock. He is normally the sweet, lovable, placid yet funny one. And what does he mean by I'm never coming back? I am!

"Shhh. Olive, I am coming back. I am. I will. And when I do, we won't be unlucky. We'll live in the victory village, with all the riches you could want. You could invent whatever you want." I comfort him.

"No. _No_. You _have _to come back, you understand? You have to! I just-" Olive begins, interrupted by a peacekeeper opening the door announcing that the visitors have to go now.

"Just a moment." I tell the peacekeeper.

The peacekeeper shakes his head and says in a commanding voice, "Now."

"No! Laurel, you have to come back! Everyone is depending on you because-" Olive says, but the peacekeeper is pushing Olive to the door and he hasn't finished his sentence.

"Go." The peacekeeper orders. Olive stomps on the peacekeeper's boot and manages to get away for a moment before he grabs Olive by the arm and roughly hauls him away, out the door.

"Wait! Just, wait!" I hear Olive scream in the corridor as peacekeepers drag him away. He's shouting my name and I'm shouting his and more peacekeepers are flooding in and pulling my family away.

"Laurel!" Willow cries, and I try to reach her but a peacekeeper has a steel grip on my shoulder and I can't move.

The last I see of my family is Rosemary's wide golden eyes, staring at me, then she turns away with reluctance as she is pulled to the corridor and the door slams behind her.

What a wonderful family parting.

I sit down on the floor and place my head on my knees. Keeping my mind off what happened in the last two hours. I stay in that position for what seems like a long time, thinking about random subjects then drifting off. That is how Aster finds me, curled up on the floor, staring at the polished wood.

I lift my head up and say, confused, "Hi, Aster."

He nods in acknowledgement, and tells me, "Stand up"

I glare at him accusatorially, thinking, _I just saw my family getting harassed by peacekeepers! How did you expect to find me?_

"Stand up" Aster repeats, emotionless.

I slowly stand up, and ask, "What happened to my family? Are they okay?"

He nods his head and replies, "They are fine. They got let out of the justice building, no problems at all. Tribute's families normally panic, it was nothing out of the usual for the peacekeepers. That's why I was let back in here, but they said only one more visitor, that's it."

I let a long breath, feeling relieved. My family was safe.

"Laurel. I am not here for friendly chat. I am here to tell you how to win. Remember those times we used to practice being a career? After Rue died?" Aster asks me.

Of course I remember. How could I not? The days of hand-to-hand combat, 'knife' throwing, fierce training everyday. Me and Aster, we _were_ best friends, back then. We trained each other, and always had each other's back. I met him a little bit after Rue died. I was determined to never let another member of my family die again. I took extra hours of work, ate less, got extra jobs and sold any materials or equipment that my family didn't desperately need.

One day, after school, when I was literally dragging myself to the field to work for another day of endless slavery, because I had barely slept the night before, I saw a boy my age walking towards me. I had seen him before, at school, and I knew him a bit because I know his elder brother entered the games and never came back. He was like me, in a way. His brother has been one of the main supporters of his family, and now that he is gone he had to take his place.

The boy introduced himself as Aster and shouldered some of my work for me. While we worked we talked a bit, and soon after many days of working the fields, helping each other out, I had got to know Aster. It had turned out that he was secretly training to be a career, because he didn't want to die in the games if he got picked like his brother. He offered to help me train to be a career, because he knew I would want to. To help my family. By making sure that if I ever got picked, I would win. We practiced knife throwing with shards of glass, with fabric tied tightly at one end as the hilt of a knife. Tree climbing, hand-to-hand combat, and everything there is to know about plants. Hunting. We did everything it took to become a Career.

I nod. Now, I am grateful that I took the precautions to train, and even to read the dusty old book that contains lots of information on, basically, surviving.

"Yes," I reply. "I remember."

"When you're in the arena, get a knife. Climb some trees, and gather plants. Those are your strong points. If it comes to it, surprise your enemies with hand-to-hand combat. You're pretty good at that." Aster says.

"Just-just remember what we did in training. Okay?" Aster tells me. He doesn't wait for my reply. He stalks off to the doorway. He pauses, and turns back to me, his mask of no emotion melted.

"Laurel?" Aster asks, his voice breaking. I stare at him, forgetting to speak.

"I'm sorry." Aster says, and presses three fingers of his left hand to his lips, then holds it out to me. The District 12 sign.

"I'm sorry." He repeats, then closes the door softly behind him.

I am close to tears.


	3. Part 1: Remembering Rue, Chapter 3

Author's Note: This chapter is shorter and kinda rushed, so if you find any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, please tell me so I can correct it :)

This chapter mainly focuses on before, so it may be a bit boring. Thx.

The stark white of the train reflects the sun's glare, causing me to shield my eyes with my hand. Me and Ryde have just arrived at the train station with Lovage Daisidy, our escort. There is nobody here, except for us and the peacekeepers. Isilee and Erudanus, have already boarded the train. The peacekeepers wouldn't allow anybody else in, more security reasons. They have their guns crossed to make an 'X' over the exit of the train station.

I haven't said a single word to Ryde since the reaping, and he hasn't even looked at me. I think I prefer too keep it this way.

Lovage fluffs up her hair, making pink sparkles shaped like hearts float to the pristine white floor. She beams brightly at us, and says cheerfully, "Here is the train! You will be staying here for about seven hours, so make yourself at home!"

Ryde pushes past Lovage, and struts through the train door, laughing. Lovage gets over it quickly, saying, "Someone's a bit excited, aren't they?"

I stifle a laugh, biting my lip. Is Lovage too blind to see who Ryde really is?

Lovage smiles, as if I'm laughing at a joke _she _made, and pinches my cheeks. "Off you pop, now!"

I stalk off to the train, rubbing my cheeks ruefully, Lovage following closely behind. In the train, there is a long, white corridor, with hundreds of doors leading off to as far as I can see. I walk with my head held high and pick a random door. I push open the set of wooden doors with elaborately carved handles.

I almost gasp.

The entire room is covered with pink flowers. Apple blossoms, roses, fuchsias and tulips, with hues ranging from a deep magenta to a light baby pink. They hang from walls, decorating glass vases and strewn around the room. The whole room throbs with a beautiful, aromatic scent.

The first thought I form in my mind is '_Rosemary.'_ She would've loved this. I could just imagine her sweet, angelic face looking around the room in wonder, her small fingers brushing the delicate flower petals. She would say to me, "Laurie, look at this pretty one! Ain't it amazing? Oh, please Laurie, could we wrap it up in a ribbon and give it to Momma?". I thought of the flowers I promised her we were going to collect if I wasn't reaped, and my heart constricted painfully.

I slowly walked to centre of the room, where a small, circular wooden table stood. On the table, was a single, perfect Dark Eye Fuchsia.

Then a memory that I tried for so long to forget came rushing back.

_I was lying on top of a hill, enjoying the feel of the wind blowing in my face. The soft grass felt like a cloud compared to my old, rickety bed at home._

"_Laurie! Laurie!" A voice shouted. I slowly sat up, looking around for the voice that had called my name. I spotted a small, dark figure running in my direction. Rue._

"_Hiya, Rue!" I smiled, waving at her as she came closer._

"_Laur! You just have to come see this." Rue said, grasping my hand and tugging me away._

"_Aw, Rue, it's so nice and windy up here! Can't we stay here?" I whined playfully._

"_Nope! You just gotta see this." Rue said, shaking her head. She ran down the hill while I willingly followed. She jogged to the base of the hill, turned a corner, and went down into a little orchard as I tagged after her._

"_Wait, wait...Rue?" I called, out of breath. I looked around, worried. _

"_Rue? Where are you?" _

"_Here!" Rue answered, somewhere in the orchard. When I got to her, she was beaming at me excitedly._

"_Look at this Laurie! Isn't just amazing? It's called a Dark Eye Fuchsia!" Said Rue, her face shining._

_I peered at what she was pointing at and gasped. It was a flower. It bright pink outer petals were pulled back, showing off a stunning bud off deep purple petals. Spouting out of the bud was baby pink stems, and dangling off the stems were little white balls, like pearls. It was stunning._

"_This is beautiful, Rue!" I said in awe._

_Rue plucked the flower from it stem, and pushed the flower behind my ear._

"_Now you look beautiful, too, Laurel." Rue said gently._

I jerk out of my reverie, and gulp. Hands shaking, I pull the flower out from it vase, and grasp it tightly to my chest. A tiny, _tiny_ tear slowly leaks down my cheek. _Oh, Rue. I miss you so much. _

"Finally made it? What took you so long? Went to cry for your Mommy in your bedroom?" I heard a voice say as I pushed through the door that led to the dining room.

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling.

"No. I was just devising plans." I lied blithely.

"_Right_. Let's hear it, then." Ryde says arrogantly.

"Like I'm gonna tell you. Just because you're my District partner doesn't mean you're my ally." I tell him, ignoring his poisonous looks at a sit down at the table.

A delicious scent wafts through my nose.

"Mmmmhhh," I say, breathing in deeply. "What's that smell?"

"It's chocolate. Haven't you had it before? Oh, right, I forgot, you're too..._poor._" Ryde sneered at me.

I blushed, feeling the heat reach my cheeks. I hated it when people mention anything related to my family money.

"Hm." I said, reaching for a cube of chocolate.

I was marveling at the delicious, creamy taste while Erudanus and Ryde laughed mockingly at me.

Lovage shushes them and says, "That's not very proper. You are gentlemen- and you should start acting like one."

I suddenly burst out laughing, almost choking on the piece of chocolate that I was eating.

"Gentlemen? _Gentlemen?" _I snigger, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes.

"Those two couldn't be gentlemen if their lives depended on it!" I laugh. Even Isilee, watching me with a calculating look during the whole conversation, manages a small smile.

Ryde snarls at me, grasping the side of the rosewood table so hard that I was sure that it would snap.

Lovage clears her throat loudly. "Alright, alright. That's enough. Let's get the servants out to give us our dinner. She claps her hands twice and says in a clear voice, "Servants!"

Five servants come through the large mahogany door, all dressed in crisp black suits complete with white ties.

I quickly stand up and say, "I'm going to bed now."

Lovage blinks and says, "Don't you want your dinner? It's going to be delicious- slow roasted pork, with-"

"No, thank you." I interrupt.

"Um. Okay. Servants, please show her to her room, it's the-"

"I'll find it myself." I tell her. She opens her mouth in shock. She probably hasn't ever had anyone refuse help from her servants, _especially_ a Capitol dinner. I don't care. All the emotions from today are getting at me and I just wanted to lie down, and sleep. Lose all my emotions in the darkness of the night. I push past the servants and close the door behind me, shutting out the appalled face of Lovage Daisidy.

I'm dreaming. A boy, of about seventeen years old, is screaming a name. His face and blond hair is streaked with bloody mud and leaves. Deep scratches crisscross his body, and bruises with a range of blue, purple and black colors mark his damaged skin. His blue eyes are wild. The broken bodies of two people litter the ground.

The boy clutches one of the people on the ground, screaming, "Katniss, Katniss! No, no! Katniss!".

Two cannons fire in the distance.

He holds the small body close to his chest, who I can now see is a girl with long black hair tied loosely in a braid. The boy closes his eyes and tears stream freely from his cheeks.

"Don't leave me Katniss, please! No, no! We're the last tributes left, just last a bit longer and I will...I will-" The boy breaks off and starts saying the girl's name again, pulling the girl closer, marking the boy's shirt with the girl's blood.

The girl cries out in pain and arches her back, screaming. She flops back to the blood-streaked ground, life leaving her eyes.

"Katniss! Don't go, please...don't go..." The boy grasps Katniss's hand and holds its to his heart. "Just keep your heart beating, please! Please!"

Katniss slowly raises her other hand, struggling, and touches the boy's cheek lightly with her fingers. She whispers an unintelligible word to the boy, and her hand falls back to the earth, with a thump.

A cannon blast fires.

The arena is silent, devoid of noises. A single sound brakes the silence: "Katniss." The boy leans over and brushes his lips gently over hers as tears stream down his cheeks. "I love you." He says. His hand is still in hers. Suddenly, a voice booms across the arena: Claudius Templesmith. "Congratulations! Panem, I give you, the victor of the 75th annual Hunger Games!" Templesmith says.

A mocking-jay gives the warning whistle of the preceding hovercraft. The boy doesn't notice any of this. He is staring at Katniss, who is lying broken and bloodied on the ground, his hand still in hers. A hovercraft appears in the sunset-pink sky. A metal claw reaches out toward the boy, and closes it fingers around him. It slowly lifts him up, pulling his hand from Katniss's. All of the sudden, the boy starts screaming. He kicks at the hovercraft and snarls savagely, like a ferocious lion. His eyes are rabid and mad. He shouts Katniss's name, over and over, reaching out for her. He is still screaming her name when he is lifted in the hovercraft, out of sight.

I suddenly realize, that I know the boy.

His name is Peeta Mellark. The victor of the 75th annual Hunger Games.


End file.
